


Requited

by kittenofdoomage



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Fluff, NSFW, Oneshot, Reader Insert, Sex, Smut, explicit - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-01
Updated: 2016-02-01
Packaged: 2018-05-17 17:33:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5879638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittenofdoomage/pseuds/kittenofdoomage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary: John gets a taste of being young again</p>
            </blockquote>





	Requited

‘John!’

Your scream was frantic, but all you got in reply was the crashing of floorboards and a yell of pain. Racing through the run down old house, you caught a glimpse of John and the witch as they fell through the rickety old wooden boards, and you skidded to a halt by the edge, looking over to see nothing but dust and darkness. As the crap in the air cleared, you fumbled for your torch, clicking it on and shining it over the edge. The first thing you noticed was blood, and greying hair. Long hair.

You heaved a sigh of relief, seeing that the witch had landed on several long pieces of wood. One of them had impaled her directly through the throat, and it didn’t look like she was getting up…ever. Shining your torch around her, you frowned as you couldn’t see any sign of John.

A groan caught your attention, and you flashed the light in the direction of the noise, seeing a hand push debris away from itself, and a young man pulled himself to his feet, brushing himself down. He was wearing exactly what John had been wearing when he’d fallen down the hole with the witch, but this man was a good twenty years younger than the John you’d seen not a few moments ago.

'Goddamn witch tried to curse me.’ He said, continuing to brush dust off himself. As he focused on his hands, he paused, eyes widening in shock as he looked at them. Shock turned to confusion quickly, and he looked up in the direction of the torchlight. 'Y/N?!’ Panic laced his voice, and you shook yourself from your stupor.

'John?’ You queried, unsure if your eyes were playing tricks on you. 'Is that you?’ He didn’t look entirely sure how to answer that question and looked down at himself, feeling the youth running through him, the energy in his no longer aching muscles.

'Yeah. I think it is.’ He looked up. 'Witch must of done something.’

You nodded, getting down on your belly and reaching down. 'You should be able to reach my hands. I’ll pull you out.’

'I’m too heavy.’ John replied, wandering over anyway.

'You look about fifty pounds lighter than you were when you fell in.’ You quipped, earning yourself a scowl from the Winchester. It was identical to the scowl Dean got on his face whenever you two argued. Of course, he was off somewhere sulking at the moment, even though you could have used his help. Apparently you sided with his dad too much.

Not like you could help it. You’d been in love with John Winchester since you’d laid eyes on him, even though you’d denied it at first. But it’d never come to anything. You were the same age as his youngest son.

'Shut up.’ He reached up, grabbing your hands. You put everything you had into pulling him up and with a few moments of grunting and swearing, you were both sprawled on the remaining floor of the old house. 'So, what do you think?’

'Of what?’ You asked, confused, getting to your feet as John looked over the edge of the hole.

'Is she dead?’

'She looks it.’ You looked around. 'Maybe we should burn it just in case.’

'You’re probably right. Always are.’ He smiled at you with pearly white teeth, and it suddenly struck you how damn handsome John was as a young man. Not that he wasn’t handsome as an older man, but damn. Where did these Winchesters’ get their genetics? 'Let’s burn it.’ He grabbed his bag, which had been discarded when he’d chased the witch into the building.

'Wait. Shouldn’t we try and figure out what…’

'What she did to me?’ John shrugged, looking down at his hands again. 'I guess. But I’m not taking the chance of leaving her alive. And anyway, all it seems she managed to accomplish was to make me a younger, stronger hunter. So I’m not complaining.’ You watched him for a moment, then nodded, pulling out your lighter. He tipped gasoline over the edge of the hole, and around the severed edges of the floorboards. With a final look back, you handed him the lighter and left the house, waiting for him outside.

'You’re not worried about this?’

John sighed. 'Yeah, I am. But I got too much to do to worry about a little curse. Whatever’s happened, we’ll fix it. If not, then hell, I got more than a few years left in me.’

'Okay. Maybe we should contact Dean and…’

'No.’ John’s mouth set into a thin line. 'He’s still cooling down. Me and you can handle this.’

'If you say so.’ You shrugged, following him to the truck he’d taken to using all the time. His son had the Impala, and you had left your car at Bobby’s in favour of travelling with John. The old man had told you several times you were an idiot, especially after he’d threatened to shoot John, and had said that you’d never find what you were looking for with the “damn Winchesters”, only that you’d die and die bloody. Maybe it was the truth but whilst you were here, and hunting…John was alone. Despite his sons, he had very little in the world and you didn’t exactly have a whole bunch yourself. So you stuck with him, trying to offer the companionship he seemed to deny at every turn. But maybe, just maybe, because you were there, John Winchester lived a little longer.

'You wanna get some food?’ John asked suddenly as you climbed into his truck. 'I’m starving.’

You blinked, pondering his words. He never suggested food. If anything, he lived on an army ration diet, and considered diners a waste of time and money. And money wasn’t in great supply to people in your business. 'Yeah, I guess.’ You replied finally, before he smiled and slammed the door shut.

'You okay?’ He asked, looking over at you in concern, before starting the truck. It rattled to life, and you nodded, staring out the front window.

'You seem, different.’ You muttered and John shrugged.

'I feel a little lighter. Dunno what she did to me but…this is the best I’ve felt in years.’ You didn’t reply to that, relaxing into your seat as John drove the truck up the highway, not stopping until he hit a Biggersons. Without pause, he parked the truck, and headed into the diner, holding the door open for you as you both entered. That small simple gesture made you smile, and the smile didn’t dissipate when you slid into a booth opposite him. 'I’m definitely having a cheeseburger. What do you fancy?’

'Uh, some waffles? With syrup.’ You didn’t even bother looking at the menu, your eyes focused on John as he ordered the food. There was definitely something different about him. His mannerisms were more relaxed, his voice softer, everything about him was…not the John you knew. 'You sure you’re okay? I mean, I’m just worrying here…’

'About what?’ He asked, as the waitress moved away, his brow furrowing as he glanced over at you.

'That maybe I left John Winchester to burn in that house and you’re not…quite him?’

He shook his head. 'It’s me, okay, Y/N? I mean, okay, yeah, I guess I feel a little differently about things, maybe not quite so…angry?’ He shrugged. 'I don’t know if that’s the right word. But I’m counting my lucky stars here. I could have been killed. _You_ could have been killed. But we’re both here, right?’

'I don’t understand.’ You stared at him, and he reached over, taking your hand.

'Maybe…maybe this is a second chance.’

Time seemed to freeze as his warm hand enveloped yours, and your mouth fell open, words just not forming as you struggled to answer what he’d said.

When a plate of waffles landed in front of you, you pulled your hand away from his as if electrocuted.

Neither of you said a word as you ate.

*****

The motel you’d booked into was quiet when you returned. Not a word had been shared between you and John since his strange announcement at the diner. And you were too scared to say anything. So you headed for your motel room, intent on hiding and hoping that when you woke up everything was normal – that John was his proper grumpy, aged self, who would never, ever reciprocate your feelings in a million years. Before you could sink into denial and misery however, his hand was on yours again.

'You’re running?’

You sighed, remembering when you’d first met him. Those were the first words he’d said to you.

_You took the ghouls head off without a second thought, ignoring the splatter of blood as the creature died a grisly death in front of you. Turning away, you picked up your duffel, wiping the blade of your machete on your combats, before looking up. A man stood in the doorway of the house where you’d found the ghouls, and you scowled, wondering if he was another one. The shotgun in his hand gave away his position as a hunter._

_'You running?’ He asked._

_'Running from what?’ You replied, holding the machete out in a defensive posture._

_'Me. Ghouls tend to do that.’_

_'I’m not a ghoul.’_

_'You’re not?’ He didn’t seem to believe you._

_'No. I just killed the last one. You’re late.’_

_'Oh right. You’re the hunter that Bobby sent up here first.’_

_You smirked. 'And I’m guessing you’re the back up.’_

_'What are you, like twelve?’ He scoffed, lowering his gun._

_'I’m twenty.’ You instantly disliked him, despite his obvious handsomeness, even in the dark. 'And I’m going. Thanks for the non existent reinforcement.’ Pushing past him, you headed out of the house, ignoring that he’d started to follow you._

That had been it. Although you’d disliked him at first, and found him surly and disagreeable, it wasn’t long before lust turned to something else. Now, after two years of working with him, with his family, finding that he was the only reason you even did this job any more…

'Maybe.’ You replied. 'I guess I just don’t have anywhere to run to.’

John’s grip on you tightened, and he pulled you to face him. It was still strange, seeing this man where your…friend…had once been. He was the same height, but he was less chiselled, less rugged. He was still drop dead gorgeous, but in a different way to how he was. 'Don’t run then.’ He insisted, pulling you closer.

'John…this…don’t…’

'Why not?’

'Because you’re only doing this because something happened. Because you…you’re not you.’

'I am. Like I said, second chance, right?’ He sighed, holding you close, even though you tensed at his touch. 'Two years I’ve watched you. Two years, I’ve wanted you. Hell, I was terrified you’d take up with Dean. I mean, you’re twenty years younger than me.’

'I-’

'This life is rough, Y/N. And I’ve been alone a long time. I never thought I’d ever love again after…after Mary.’ He smiled wistfully. 'Then along comes this spitfire of a thing, and I can’t even begin to hope to touch her.’

You sighed, leaning your forehead against his, beginning to relax in his grip. 'Why couldn’t you have said something?’

'Because you didn’t deserve to end up with who I was. Now, I’m…I’ve found something again. Maybe with you…maybe I can fix it all. Or at least, move on.’

'You could have done that before.’

John scoffed. 'I was too old before.’

'Your age hasn’t changed, John. You’re just…younger.’ You frowned. 'Okay, even I know that didn’t make any sense, but you know what I’m getting at. And what if there are side effects? What if it doesn’t last?’ You shook your head, pulling away. 'I don’t think I could bear to have you then lose you. I…I can’t play that game. If you’re suddenly older again, and decide you don’t want me…what then?’

'I did want you before.’ He admitted, although you’d already figured out as much. 'I’ve been in love with you since you sassed me over that ghoul problem.’ He chuckled. 'But I guess…I guess I was scared.’

'And you’re not now.’

'No!’ He replied with enthusiasm. 'Now, I’m just seeing the possibilities.’

You frowned. 'Possibilities?’

'Getting out.’ He said slowly. 'Not hunting any more.’

'Not hunting?’ Your frown deepened. 'What about Yellow Eyes?’ You asked, and John shook his head.

'Dean and Sam can take care of that.’

'You’d leave them to it? Never see them again? Could you really walk away from something that you’d been doing for twenty years, John? No closure?’ John thought for a moment, before looking away. Then he slowly shook his head. You sagged a little. 'You couldn’t walk away from hunting any more than I could, John Winchester. It’s in my blood. It’s in your blood.’ You sighed. 'I’m happy to just be with you on the hunt. I don’t want you to do anything you’d regret.’

His head whipped up, and he was pressed up against you in the next instant, his hand fisted in your hair as he pushed you backwards, kissing you fiercely and quickly. When he pulled away, you were gasping for air, feeling your motel door at your back. 'The only thing I’d regret, the only thing I’ve _been_ regretting, is not doing that sooner.’

Neither of you moved for a moment, until you leant forward, pressing your lips to his tenderly, savouring the taste and texture of him. 'John…’ You reached for the door handle, opening the door to your room. 'Please don’t make this a mistake between us.’

John shook his head, pushing your hair behind your ear. 'Never.’ He kissed you again, guiding you inside the motel room, shutting the door behind you. One of you turned the light switch on, but you weren’t sure where he ended and you began at this point. Even when your calves collided with the bed, you barely noticed it, too focused on his hands skimming underneath your shirt to touch your bare skin. He devoured you like a man starved, his hips grinding against yours, strong arms holding you tightly. His fingers moved from your back to your front, pushing your coat off as you pushed his off. He deftly undid the buttons of your shirt and then pulled his t-shirt over his head as you pulled yours off, leaving him shirtless and you clad only in a bra.

'You’re so beautiful.’ He whispered, bending his head to kiss your collarbone, his hand cupping your breast and pushing the material covering it up. His thumb grazed your nipple and you arched into the touch, gasping as he bit lightly at your skin. He used his free hand to flick your bra undone, flinging it to the side, leaving you topless in front of him. Without removing his lips from your skin, he made a path down to your breasts, licking and sucking, before focusing his attention on your nipples. You cried out, and clung to him, your fingernails leaving crescent moons in his shoulders. He grinned, looking up to you, pushing his hips and his very obvious erection into your belly.

'God…’ You whispered. 'I want you so bad.’

His smile only widened, and he pushed you back, unbuttoning his jeans. 'Take those off.’ He nodded his head towards your jeans, and you smiled, shimmying out of the offending garment with little grace. John didn’t seem to care as he kicked off his boots and jeans, throwing his boxers away. 'And those.’ He pointed at your panties, his freed erection bobbing at you. You giggled, crawling across the bed, and he pounced, pinning you to the bed. 'I said, take them off.’

'Make me.’ You wiggled your ass against him, and he slipped a hand down over your thigh, creeping around to brush a finger against your covered mound. With one smooth movement, he pulled your panties to one side, and slid a finger inside of you. You gasped and arched back against him.

'So wet.’ John gasped, removing his finger. 'Need to be inside you.’ He rubbed his cock against you, and you pushed back, sinking onto him as he held you close, feeling the fabric of your panties brushing against his cock every time he pushed in and out of you. His arms encircled you, one hand grasping your breast and the other reaching for your clit, rubbing circles around it as he fucked you from behind. His lips worshipped your neck as you thrust back against him, wanton groans and whimpers falling from your lips. He mumbled incoherent words against your skin, but you couldn’t focus on that as he moved in and out of you with long, hard strokes.

'John..’ You begged, feeling the spiral crashing down inside you, and you tightened around him, spasming on his cock, and he continued to pound into you, drawing out every ounce of pleasure from your body. Then he pulled away, rolling you onto your back. Before you could protest, he was kneeling between your legs, lining himself up to plunge into your depths again, and you cried out, feeling him hit exactly the right spots.

'Y/N…’ He grunted, a bead of sweat forming on his forehead. 'Could spend the rest of my life right here.’

'Me too.’ You replied, your head thrown back in abandon as John Winchester fucked you into the cheap motel mattress. You didn’t care that it was probably the least romantic setting ever, the dingy curtains barely concealing the room from the outside world. You didn’t care that this could be over tomorrow (well, you did, but as long as he was fucking you, it was the furthest thing from your mind) and you didn’t care that the lights flickered on and off from an electric fault. You had wanted this for too long to fight against it.

'I’m gonna cum, baby.’ John whispered, leaning over you to kiss you deeply. 'Fuck, gonna cum inside you.’

'Please…’ You begged, holding him close, kissing him back as he stilled for a split second, then gave a strangled moan and came inside you with erratic thrusts. Heat spread through you, and you smiled against his mouth, before he rolled away to the side. Without saying anything, he gathered you up close to him, kissing the back of your neck.

'Come hell or high water…’ He said quietly. 'No matter what happens now….I’m not letting you go, Y/N.’


End file.
